Tags
ache, feeling, grief, growth, happiness, Healing, life, love, memory, mental health, shadow, softness, survival, Truth, writing
There are days when I think I’ve moved on. I smile. I laugh at the right moments. I say I’m fine and almost believe it. I clean the kitchen and sing along to something sad, and it feels like living.
But then something tiny cracks me open. A smell. A memory. A sentence I wasn’t expecting. And suddenly I’m back in a memory of a life I no longer have.
I don’t think pain ever really leaves. Not fully. It just folds itself into the quiet corners of who we are. It waits there, patient and still, until the light hits it just right.
I’m learning not to push down that part of me. The one that remembers. The one that aches without asking permission. She’s still healing, still holding pieces of the girl I was when things first broke.
And maybe that’s okay. Maybe we get to be both the healed and the healing. The hopeful and the hurting.
Some things stay. But so do I.
thecountessspeaks 